


Green Light

by ajarofgoodthings



Series: The Grey Area [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Death Eaters, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Politics, Pureblood Society, Pureblood Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10326242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajarofgoodthings/pseuds/ajarofgoodthings
Summary: (Except, the world is about to fall apart).





	

**I.**

Their families are both of ancient origin; ancient magic. Pureblood.

The Flints are Druidic; they derive their abilities, as much as their name, from the earth.

The Carrows dabble in the Dark Arts; toe the line between mortality and the divine.

They’re promised to each other before they’re even born. It’s powerful magic; binding magic, with little room for loopholes. Their fates are predetermined.

(Except, the world is about to fall apart).

 

**II.**

She  _ hates _ him. He’s a brute; big and stupid, he steps on her toes when their parents make them dance and pulls her hair when their parents aren’t looking.

He knows she hates him. He knows his mother hates his father, though, and thinks that’s how it’s supposed to be. He hears his father shout, over his mother’s crying, that he does it because he loves her so much.

He decides that she can hate him, because he can love her enough for the both of them.

 

**III.**

He finds his mother’s body, blue-tipped toes swinging back, forth, back, forth, from the dining room chandelier. She left her family to marry his father and only her sister, the aunt he’s never met, represents them at her funeral. He stands next to his father and  _ hates _ him.

He stares across his mother’s casket and looks at the girl that’s supposed to be his, and thinks about blue lips and toes.

He never pulls her hair again.

 

**IV.**

She  _ scowls _ when he meets her at the platform. 

He kisses her cheek, and he smells like mint and dirt and she pulls away. He shakes hands with her father and loads her trunk onto the train and shows her his compartment.

She still hates him; he’s still big, and stupid - his hands are bigger than her head and he doesn’t know anything about anything except Quidditch. He’s going to play, he always tells her; he’s going to be  _ good _ . He’s going to be Slytherin Captain.

She decides she doesn’t care enough to not believe him.

He introduces her to his friends. She sits next to him because it’s the only open space. He tells his friends he knows she’ll be top of her year. He still smells like too much mint and wet dirt and when he tries to hold her hand, she pulls away.

He doesn’t try again.

 

**V.**

She has to take his ring when she turns fifteen. It’s supposed to be consent; but it’s a formality. It doesn’t matter if she consents or not, it’s all been decided.

Except - she still has a way out. The magic is generational; her sister, Flora, was supposed to be a boy, and so the binding had not been specific. Flora doesn’t hate him like she does - Flora is better than her; Flora doesn’t hate him at all.

Flora’s thirteenth birthday is three months before hers. She thinks her sister is old enough, now, to make a decision - (except she’s not, except the timelines are forced, except this is her only option) - but before she can ask, Flora is crying, sobbing, and all she knows how to do is hold her.

“I think I’m gay.”

She takes his ring.

 

**VI.**

_ He’s back. He’s back. He’s back _ .

He feels a phantom pain at Potter’s screaming; he remembers, the way his father used to clutch his arm and then disappear. 

There’s murmurs from his housemates;  _ Potter’s crazy, he’s lost his mind, he’s killed Diggory! _

He doesn’t believe them. He looks at the boy clutching the corpse on the green, and knows he’s telling the truth. He looks down the stands, at the girl that’s supposed to be his, and for the first time in a long time, she meets his eyes.

So he knows she knows it, too.

 

**VII.**

He has a way out. He doesn’t have to do it; his father is already a member. Still a member. Never arrested, still loyal - he doesn’t have to  _ prove _ anything. He tells his father so.

Flora, who he likes, who likes him more than the girl that’s supposed to be his, goes missing.

He takes the Mark.

 

**VIII.**

She’s not the same. She’s still Flora, but she’s got new scars, she smiles like she has to remember how and she’s tired all the time.

“Marcus,” says the girl, who’s supposed to be his, who punches him when he shows her the Mark and cuts open his lip with the ring he gave her.

“ _ Marcus _ ,” says the girl, who hates him, who never says his name, who hugs him, who cries.

She kisses the blood from his mouth and leaves the stains of it on his neck. 

It is not what a first kiss should be.

She’s tall, willowy, wears a lot of black, wears her hair long, down her back.

He’s big; taller than her, wider than her, stronger than her.

She has nails. He bleeds in other places. His hand spans from her navel to a spine.

She tells him to pull her hair.

 

**IX.**

She’s a Seventh Year and he’s a Death Eater. They don’t write each other, and he doesn’t recognize her owl sitting in his window when he comes home, bloody and bruised and stripping black robes from his body.

It’s just a note, one line.

“Were you there?”

He can still hear the glass breaking. He can still hear Potter screaming.

He doesn’t reply.

 

**X.**

She graduates. He goes, because he should. He kisses her cheek. She turns her head and catches his mouth.

A week later, her wedding dress is long-sleeved. 

After, she pulls him to her. After, She pulls up her skirt.

The sleeve gets torn. White reveals black.

“Hestia,” he says.

“Harder,” She tells him.


End file.
